TICKET TO HELL
by TomGSilver
Summary: This was a rewrite based of an old fan fiction of mine-however orig. characters had to be removed.  FF Guidelines   About A Murderer who owns an old abandoned theater, his wife, and a cop.  Macabre/Horror  Mature Audiences Only.


**Ticket to Hell**

Gerard clasped the silk strings of his mask and pulled firmly, the device falling forth onto the table below him. He smiled gently, reaching out to clasp the fingers of the beautiful figure ascended above him. Gently, he pressed her bony fingers to his lips, so cold, and raised his eyes to greet her.

"_hello love. Your looking quiet pale. Did you forget to eat today?_" he spoke gently to the woman before him, glancing over to the cold bowl of soup on the table beside his feet. She had forgotten to eat again, how depressing. "_No matter",_ Gerard whispered, dropping her hand, which fell smugly to her side.

"_I have brought someone for you to meet. He is an officer from the local police station." _Gerard turned on the table not waiting for a response, and pulled the cloth from the face of his guest, promptly tied to the chair at the head of the table_."I thought perhaps he could play the jester in our play, he sure suits the part"._

Gerard pondered the idea, looking over the pale figure who's locks of blond hair had began to wisp into his face from the journey. The man, who had beads of sweat running down his forehead, began to squirm, pulling at the ties crossed along his chafed wrists. The cloth, ever so neatly tied behind him came loose and slid comfortably around his neck.

"Let me go you, you psychotic motherfu-"

Gerard quickly interrupted him,

_ "Now.." _he glanced at his name plate attached to his uniform, _"..Officer Jameson, is that really a polite way to talk in the presence of a lady, especially your host?"_ Smugly, Gerard grabbed the dinner knife stuck in the table and twirled it between his fingers.

"_don't, d-don't kill me",_ the music drifted to Gerard's ears.

"_I'm not going to kill you. Dead men don't make good company"_ Gerard mused quietly, more to himself then to the officer. He shot a smug look over his shoulder to his quiet wife, who's black stare appeared to be looking for her perfume bottle. She had begun to smell, something Gerard knew she would worry about that with company around. Elena had always liked to smell nice.

The sun had begun to peak into the corner of the stained glass window, casting colors across the three figures, his wife peaking out of the darkness of the night.

"_by…god, shes dead!"_ The officer spattered a mist of spit all over the table.

Gerard moved quickly slapping the cloth back over the officer's mouth, his eyes widening as his knees smashed into the wooden table top. _"She is not dead! She's just tired, needs a good show!" _he spat, watching the man's eyes water. Gerard gently carved the dining utensil into James's cheek. "_You will say nothing more! Is that understood?" _Gerard un-hunched himself and sprung off the table, his coat flying out behind him. _"I am going for a walk, and when I get back, you will meet the rest of the guest Mr. Jameson!" _He stormed out the doors of the antique looking room, and down the hallway, past glass cased figures the rooms of his current guests and actors, their eyes following him as he strode towards another room in his lovely mansion.

Gerard breathed, soothing his inner demons. _The man must have been taken back by Elena's pail figure. Yes, that's all it was. _Gerard brushed some dust off the chair in front of him. He was sitting in the theater room of his mansion, or he liked to consider the old broken down theater his mansion, in reality no one had been there in years. Gerard looked up onto the stage, noting that one of the orange light bulbs had faded and died since the last time he entered the room and would need to be replaced. In his mind he could see the figures moving about flawlessly, acting out their scenes.

_Scene one, a young man enters left stage, ratty fedora pulled down over his eyes. He proceeds to waltz across the stage, the ropes that hold him up tugging tightly at his cold back as he looks off towards the buildings behind him. _Gerard had made the buildings out of extra pieces left over from the "Gone With The Wind" play the theater had done years ago. Smiling to himself, Gerard walked towards the stage, taking place of the waltzing man inside his mind.

"_Death does not always take the toll on the one dying. For the dying man can only suffer for so long. It is those left behind, the companionships now broken, that truly hear the echo of death's wrath through the hollow corridors of their pathetic lives"_ Gerard's voice rang out, bouncing off the empty walls of the sage, as finished his monologue, now glancing up at the balcony where his wife would soon stand. This was where scene two would begin.

"_How envious are the dead, that they look down upon the living, always toiling away, wasting away their perfect lives. Never once stopping to breathe the air they have been given, even when they suffer in death's wake. How could the living waste away, never trying for more? How do they die so lonesome, without loves gentle hand to guide their hearts away from the darkness that consumes all in its path". _

Gerard laughed, knowing he had just broken character and turned to look out at the invisible audience placed in the sea of theater chairs before him. He opened his arms out to them. _"Thank you all for coming, and have a fantastic night. We hope you have enjoyed our play this evening, and hope to see you again soon". _Gerard smiled. Normally this was where the jester would come on stage, and offer some entertainment as the guest would file out of their seats. The officer would do just fine for this part of the play_. Just dandy fine indeed._

Gerard, now very chipper, walked towards the room his wife very often occupied, stopping to have conversations with his many actors and actresses laced up in their glass cases. He reminded them the date of the play was coming up, and of lines they still needed to memorize, and how the new guy, Officer Jameson, was still getting used to the place and would still need a room to stay in. Gerard continued down the hall, looking for his butler. He always made sure to speak to the butler, they had been friends since he was of a young age, back when society was good to play writers.

He turned towards the butler, dressed in a very expensive black and white suit in the glass case to his right, before the doors. _"Your looking rather pale today, Mr. Jones. Why don't you take the day off?" _Gerard glanced to the butler's never changing smile as he did not budge. _"Ah, always faithful to me Mr. Jones, Never taking a day off. Its nice to know I can rely on you"._

Gerard giggled and swung open the doors in front of him, Officer Jameson right where he had left him, several hours ago. He looked up at his wife walking past the Officer, and for a moment he could have sworn he saw the tips of her mouth turn up, in a slight smile, as the sun cast fading rays across her face. _"Lovely like always dear, now if you don't mind, I'm going to go get Officer Jameson here, situated"_. Gerard always spoke to his wife quietly, as she seemed to like the quiet, her dark eyes glazing all over the entire room. He would bring her more company tomorrow. Perhaps he would put the twin actors who played sisters in his upcoming play tomorrow. They had been cold and unmoving for weeks, Perhaps Elena would warm their frozen hearts, just like she had melted his.

"_Hey! Jackass"_ Gerard heard the voice rise up behind where he was now standing, and he sighed. New actors were always so hard to deal with, they never knew their lines, would always talk out of turn, and frankly were rather annoying. Luckily it never lasted long, and usually by the second costume change everything would settle down.

"_Yes?"_ Gerard asked, while turning around to stare at the officer, noting the cloth used to tie over his mouth was now down around his neck. Gerard wondered how long it had taken him to get that piece of work off. He had tried to tie it rather tight the second time.

"_How about you let me go?"_ Officer James snarled, irritation was apparent in his eyes. Gerard could tell he was exhausted, perhaps that was the explanation for his ongoing foul language despite both his and his wife's hospitality.

"_Oh pardon my rudeness"_ Gerard gritted his teeth. This actor was a handful. _"Let me go ahead and show you to your room"._ Gerard grabbed the back of the chair and dragged the Officer backwards to the side of the room, where their were several empty glass boxes, each with accommodations inside. _"It might be a bit uncomfortable at first, but you'll get used to it" _he whispered in the Officers ear, before grabbing the chair and hosting the man up towards the giant hook dangling inside of the box. Gerard grit his teeth at the muffled screaming now emitting from the Officer who was suspended by the contraption. He would be sleeping here. "_you'll get used to it. They all do." _Gerard spoke to his guest before once again shutting the glass case, the muffled screams now almost silent.

Gerard turned and walked silently back to his wife, placing a soft kiss on her lips before gently closing the door to her glass encased room_. "Sleep well love, I will see you soon. Don't forget your lines, everyone can't wait to see our masterpiece"_ he whispered, before returning to the hallway, now filled with sleeping figures hidden in the shadows of the archways. Gerard would also go rest, as tomorrow he would have more work to do then the day before.

The morning came, the sun cast across Gerard's face. He yawned, effortlessly trying to untangle the mess of sheets around him. He slept above the theater. If he was careful enough he could look down from his loft and see the rows of antique red chairs, calling for people to fill them and warm them with their bodies, pressed against their velvet flesh, renewing them for what they were worth. Gerard also longed for fulfillment.

Elena had just not been the same since the accident. She would not cuddle with him as they rested together, nor turn her face towards his in the morning and offer small kisses without any warning. Since the accident, that all had stopped. But regardless, Gerard tried to please her, to bring the smile back to her face, the light back into her eyes. He knew certain things about his wife had changed, like how now she preferred to sleep alone, and only have company during the daylight, and how she would only eat her food when he brought new guests and let them roam about the room.

Gerard also knew the things that stayed the same. Elena loved the theater. They had met each other through the theater. Gerard, a young errand boy, and Elena the actress, who always hungered to fill the lead role in any play she could get her gentle hands around. They used to go on picnics together, sitting under the sparse trees of Manhattan, where she would tell Gerard about her muses, goals, and wishes. He would always try to fulfill them, even before he married her, a cold fall day in September, the one time he asked something of her, instead of the other way around.

Today he would fulfill another wish of hers, noted in her old journal beside his bedside. He needed to find a proper costume for the Officer, soon to only be known as the jester. Gerard pulled his shirt back on over his head, buttoned his trousers, and swung down from the rope tied to his loft, landing center stage on his platform below.

Soon Gerard found himself opening the glass case to the officer's room, unbuckling his costuming making tools from his belt, and setting them on top of the soon-to-be-jester's room. He slipped one of the tools, a large mallet, in his hand.

Gerard raised tool slowly to Jameson's neck. _"Its important for all actors to be properly dressed before the play begins" _The officers eyes had gone wide. _"don't worry, I wont kill you, just like I promised" _Gerard cackled the back of the tool swiftly moving forward to knock the officer in the back of the head causing him to fall unconscious. _"don't peak now, I want you to look your very best" _he cooed, grabbing another tool, edging the knife under the skin of the new actors neck. They were so lucky that he gave his services for free. Gerard carved, quickly and precisely, removing unwanted skin from the actor's pure flesh. Gerard smiled, taking a glance at the flesh and muscle raised above the heart, beating ever so tenderly. Gerard stepped back and closed the glass door in front of the mannequin, pushing the glass box up against his wife's. _"Sleep well, dear friend"._

Officer Jameson awoke, the severe pain that was aching him, now dulled to a still. He wiggled his fingers and took in a deep breath. He did not need to open his eyes to see the damage, he had seen what Gerard had done to the other actor's that came into the situation before him. He tried to lick his lips, to find they were concealed together with some kind of stitching. His nostrils flared. He had to move now, or he would surely be dead. The officer finally opened his eyes, vomit filling his throat from glancing at his own disfigurations. He coughed, choked it down, and pulled forward to find that the hook was tilted enough from last nights efforts to come free of the flesh on his back. With a pained scream Jameson fell forward, Elena also come free from her lodged case as he fell against her open coffin, the two of them falling to the floor in a tangled mess. The Officer heard the smash of glass behind him, as a lantern fell and rolled past him on the floor, the flames licking the space where the floor and wall met near the curtains.

Meanwhile Gerard worked mercilessly, moving all the actor's rooms into the space behind the stage, tethering ropes and pulleys from the teasers above him, getting everyone into their places. The twin's had been rather chatty today, going back and forth with each other about which scene with Elena would make the biggest impression. Gerard chuckled at their whispering, the stage all set for the night's event. Now all he had left to do was go proclaim the Jester who had a few hours ago been dressed, and the Prima Donna, the woman would be center stage.

Entering the room, Gerard stumbled upon a most disturbing scene. Elena was sprawled across the floor, her glass case knocked on its side, the jester laying across her bare chest, flames rising up against the wall behind them. He snarled at Jameson, kicking him aside. _"You bastard! You snake! How could you do this to me, after all we had done for you!" _His face turned back to his wife, and the horror struck him. A screeching filled howl filled the air, and Gerard turned to look at the officer, who had his phone clasped between his teeth, three clear digits showing on the screen. _"You killed my wife! You bloody bastard, You killed my wife!"_

The Officer gasped, _he should have known taking on this case was going to kill him. _He glanced at Elena, the corners of her mouth turned downward. "_She was already dead! She's been dead this whole time. The cops will be here soon. I hope you rot in hell"_, the Jester sank into the floor, barely taking in short breaths, the flames now flickering against his empty gun hostler, the weapon long since removed.

Gerard gripped his wife's icy fingers, the tears running down his face. How could she forsake him like this, leave him to die in the cold of the night. Gerard stood and scooped her up, tucked gently against his breastplate as he began to climb the stairs to the top of the building. Her skirt trailed out behind the both of them, smoke nipping at its already frayed ends. He could see the car lights flashing up and through the windows, red and blue shadows along the walls, mixed among the flames. The butler had not moved from his place against the wall.

"_Help me!"_ Gerard growled at the Butler, who ceased to move. Why was everything turning against him. His wonderful wife, his wonderful life, it was crumpling before him. _Was he dead also, like the Jester had said? Had the Jester tricked him, and killed them all?_ Gerard continued to move, taking the steps beyond him two at a time.

He broke through the rooftop door, a light brushing across him._ "Gerard Histler, This is the police, come down from there right now, or we will shoot." _ A voice yelled from another abandoned building across the way. Gerard should have known that taking a Officer to be his actor would have lead to his demise. He should have known that they would eventual find him and burn down his home, take away his life, take away everything he worked so hard to accomplish just like they had once before. As Gerard took a step forward, the roof behind collapsed, his stage and actors revealed in a masquerade of flames.

Gerard moaned helplessly, his wife falling from his arms onto the concrete below his feet. He growled quietly, and ran towards the edge of the roof, lifting his arms as if preparing for a dive. Suddenly before the drop, he stopped, stretching his arms out to the world beyond him. He heard the shot before he felt the bullet, embedded in his figure. He laughed and pulled open his button down shirt, revealing the hole. He was already dead even if he did bleed. He was already dead, unlike the rest of them. _Not like his lovely wife, or the Jester, immortalized in the happiness of their own lives._

Gerard cackled as he fell downward, a smile crossing his face. Perhaps now he could learn to live happily, his last moments in this life. He had done everything to fix his wife's life so she could live happily_. Maybe they would hang him up in his own glass case, so that others could observe his happiness, like every day he observed theirs. Maybe they would dress him up in his finest, reveal his true character through costuming. After all, what's the difference between life and death, besides a little happiness?_ Gerard laughed, taking a look at the last scene he would observe, and closed his eyes accepting the feelings that consumed him.

The Officer's on the scene watched as the fire was put out, as the bodies were removed from the building, moved from their glass cases into body bags. They watched as white lines were drawn around the mass murder's now misshapen figure, as they removed an old woman's corpse from the rooftop above. They watched as a lonely stretcher came out of the smoldering building, a face of a barely recognizable figure, emerged from the building, a lonely mask with laced ribbons along the edges dangling from his fingertips.


End file.
